


Castle In The Clouds I: The Heir

by BradyGirl_12



Series: Castle In The Clouds [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Ball, Coming Out, Established Relationship, M/M, Male Slash, Party, Romance, Slash, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin is the heir to the mantle of the Bat, but Dick is also the heir to the Wayne legacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chocolate Chip Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Original LJ Dates Of Completion: February 16, 2007-February 26, 2007  
> Original LJ Dates Of Posting: February 23, 2007-February 28, 2007  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 1419 + 1192 + 2352 + 958 + 2286 + 660 (Total: 8867)  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> All chapters can be found [here.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/14407.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick resigns himself to a attending the annual Winter Ball with yet another 'date'.

“Hey, Dick! Dick!”

“Smile, Dick!”

“Who is Bruce going to take to the Winter Ball?”

“Who are you taking?”

Dick expertly weaved his way through the mass of paparazzi, slipping inside Gorton Hall with a sigh of relief. 

“Dick!” 

He turned abruptly, wondering if a reporter had gotten inside.

“Oh, hey, Jack.”

Jack Ellison was a classmate and friend. Blond hair tumbled into his blue eyes, a restless hand brushing it back. “What’s up with all the gossipmongers?”

Dick grinned. “The Winter Ball.”

“Ah.”

The Winter Ball was one of the high points of the Gotham social season, and that always included Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham.

“Your guardian appears at a lot of these things. Why are they pestering you?”

Dick fell into step beside Jack. “Because the Winter Ball is an occasion which I _must_ attend.”

Amusement sparkled in Jack’s eyes. “You _must?”_

Dick nodded. “Bruce lets me get away with ducking out on a lot of these events, but not this one.”

 _“Lets_ you? You’re an adult. He’s not your father.”

Dick looked at him with an arch glance. “My friend, being ‘the heir’ (he used his fingers as quotation marks) to the Wayne fortune requires certain…obligations.”

Jack laughed. “Sometimes I forget you’re the Crown Prince.”

They began climbing the stairs. “To be honest, sometimes I do, too. I mean, I’m a circus kid at heart. Bruce comes from a long line of bluebloods. His ancestors literally came over on the Mayflower, for cryin’ out loud.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been to the Manor. You seem comfortable there.”

“Well, Alfred and Bruce know how to make a home. Somehow, the three of us make it all work.”

They reached the second floor. “So, who are you bringing?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know yet.”

“What, a good-lookin’ guy like you has no prospects?”

Dick grinned. “I’m choosy.”

“Ha! C’mon, if we’re late, ol’ Pritchard will give us a hard time all class.”

& & & & &

Dick stored his motorcycle in the garage and walked into the Manor, dumping his books on the hall table. He checked over the mail, picking up a magazine, and headed for the kitchen.

“Chocolate chip cookies!”

Alfred smiled. “Yes, warm from the oven.”

Dick settled himself at the table, wrapping his limbs around the chair legs. “When’s the appointment for the tux fitting?”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. _“You_ are asking about a tuxedo fitting?” 

“I’ve bowed to the inevitable.” Dick grinned as he took a cookie from the plate the butler set in front of him. _“’Every year my tux must be upgraded or a new one bought for the Winter’s Ball’”._

Alfred shook his head, hiding his smile at the perfect mimicry of Bruce’s voice. “You know that Master Bruce sets a good deal of stock in this event.”

“I know, I know.” Dick sighed. “Out of all the many legacies his family left, this is one of the biggest. Sometimes, Alfred, even I am astounded at the lineage Bruce carries around. I mean, his family goes back in this country hundreds of years, always in the uppercrust. When I was back in junior high I did a report on Mad Anthony Wayne, the Revolutionary War general, and Bruce is directly descended from him!”

“His line is quite varied, I’ll agree.”

Dick stared down at the cookie plate. “Alfred, can…may I ask you a question?” 

“Certainly, Master Dick.”

Blue eyes looked directly at him. “Does Bruce regret being the last of his line? I mean, he and I…even if we adopted, his bloodline ends with him.”

Alfred checked cabinets to make his weekly shopping list, then answered as he returned Dick’s gaze, “I believe that Master Bruce is more than happy with his personal life as it is. He has never expressed any desire for an heir other than yourself.”

“But I’m not his son, even adopted. Bruce and I have something very different than that.”

“Quite so. However, you are his official heir, Master Dick. You will inherit the Wayne fortune when that time comes.”

“Alfred?”

“Yes?” Alfred asked as he wrote down an item on his list.

“Why didn’t Bruce ever adopt me? I mean, before I was eighteen and before we realized that we…?”

Alfred looked at Dick again. “Perhaps somewhere deep within himself, he knew that adoption would not be the route to go with you.”

Dick blushed pink, but he smiled. “That sounds right to me. Thanks, Alfred.” He finished his cookie and bounced out of the kitchen, unaware of the butler’s thoughtful gaze.

& & & & & &

Dick poked his head into the study. “Alfred says dinner’s ready.”

“Be right there.”

Bruce hung up the phone, stacking his papers in a neat pile on his desk. He rose from the chair and entered the dining room. Dick was already seated at the long table to the right of Bruce’s chair. Years ago, Bruce had offered him the seat at the other end of the table but Dick preferred his now-customary seat. He had stated quite firmly even as a child that it was ridiculous for them to be seated so far apart that they’d need a megaphone to communicate. Bruce always smiled at that memory.

Bruce took his seat and shook out the white linen napkin, placing it over his lap. Alfred brought in the first course, setting the china bowls of tomato soup down in front of his charges.

The meal was going to be a light one. Darkness came early in the winter months, and it wouldn’t be wise to eat a heavy meal before going on patrol. Over the years Alfred had learned how to cook meals that would fill the requirements of his Bat-Family.

“So, I called Pierre today. We go into the city to meet him tomorrow at four.” Bruce tilted his head. “Your class schedule is free at that time, right?”

Dick nodded. “So, do we bring the old tuxes or get new ones?”

“Depends on the state of the old tuxes.”

Dick grinned. “I haven’t worn mine since the last Winter Ball, so I think I’m good.”

“We’ll let Pierre decide that. We have to be up-to-the-minute,” Bruce drawled, and Dick chuckled. When Bruce put on the playboy act, everything was fine.

“Fine by me.” Dick loved the taste of Alfred’s tomato soup. “So, who are the ladies for this year?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Dick sighed. “Right.” He took another taste of soup. “Having a hard time choosing between Vicki and Silver?”

Bruce smiled. “With all that jewelry the women will be wearing, I expect I might end up with Selina making a guest appearance.”

“Ah, yes. Jewel thief is what she started as. She’s always been one of the best.”

“Top-notch.”

Dick suppressed the _frisson_ of jealousy that rose whenever Selina’s name was mentioned. Of all the women that Bruce or the Batman had been involved with, Selina was the biggest threat. He buttered a dinner roll and put a smile on his face. 

“Well, I could ask one of a few girls from college.” Dick sighed. His heart really wasn’t in this phony dating game, but it was necessary. Sometimes he wondered if he’d lose himself among the masks he had to wear.

“Hold off for another few days. I think I can scare up a suitable date for you.”

Dick almost sighed again. ‘Suitable.’ Well, what of it? As long as he had Bruce, even if hidden away, he was happy. Maybe the Winter Ball would be fun. There would be no pressure with a date who didn’t have his heart. 

“All right, you’re my matchmaker.” Dick grinned. “Batman should advertise in the Personals section. All his set-ups would be required to wear black.”

Bruce arched an eyebrow at Dick’s humor but allowed a small smile of his own to appear.

After dinner they discussed a patrol route for the night, then went down to the Batcave as darkness fell.

Dick was happy to get into Robin-mode. His nerves were tingling with excitement as they had always done before a circus performance. Essentially, doing what he and Bruce did out there in the streets was theater, too, using their costumes and personas to battle the scum of Gotham. Bruce did it especially well with the Bat, but Dick knew that Robin served his purpose, too. 

_Distraction. Quips. Letting the bad guys underestimate me and then wham! beddy-bye time._

Dick grinned as he pulled the mask on.


	2. The Other Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on patrol, Robin ruminates on the Wayne legacy.

Silence filled the Batmobile, but it was not an uncomfortable one. Often when they were out on patrol, words were few. Dick was all right with that. When you were out amongst the scum of Gotham, you had to keep your concentration.

Snow glittered in the countryside, gradually turning brown and dirty as they approached the city. Batman turned on the police radio and they glided along their route, the cold of a January night frosting the Batmobile’s windows. The interior of the car was warm. Batman might be a stickler for ‘roughing it’ when they had to, but he didn’t see a reason why they should freeze when they had a perfectly good heater. Dick was grateful for that.

He had slipped on Robin as easily as he had put on his costume. He allowed himself to fully become Robin now, quietly placing Dick in reserve, ready for him to come out when it was necessary. 

The police radio was quiet, so they decided to stick to their pre-planned patrol. The Batmobile was parked in a section of woods right outside the city as they took to the treetops that eventually changed to rooftops.

Robin thrilled in the cold air rushing over him as he flew. It wasn’t Superman flight, to be sure, but it was a type of flying that excited him nearly as much. Winging over the city, he and Batman kept their eyes open for any nefarious activity.

Gotham could be beautiful in the winter. Despite the slushy snow on the streets, the frost on the windows and the cold, clear night full of stars held its own beauty. Robin liked the more futuristic architecture in Metropolis, fitting for her protector, the Man of Tomorrow, and all the light and open spaces, but he loved Gotham deep in his heart. Despite the gloom and shadows, the old-fashioned buildings and more confined spaces, it had a rich history that he had delved into, wanting to learn more about the city that had such a hold on the man he loved.

He had discovered how rooted the Wayne family was in the city. They had settled here in the 1600s, back when it was just a village on the windswept East Coast, and had been instrumental in transforming that small village into one of the most famous cities in America. Branches of the Wayne family had spread out around the country, but all roads led back to Wayne Manor on the rocky Gotham coast. 

The family had been prominent every generation in Gotham City. They were doctors (like Bruce’s father), lawyers, philanthropists, and served on civic and charitable boards. A few had even dabbled in politics, though for men of their station, it had been considered beneath them. The Waynes were practitioners of noblesse oblige, duty toward the citizenry and less fortunate their family’s charge.

Thomas Wayne continued the tradition of serving the city while becoming a respected surgeon. He had married socialite Martha Roosevelt, cousin to the Oyster Bay and Hyde Park Roosevelts who had produced two presidents and numerous other influential citizens. Whether she had found irony in marrying a man whose family disdained politicians, Dick had never found out through the histories he had read. Maybe if Bruce allowed him to look at the family papers…

Whatever the case, Robin had learned just how prominent a family he had been taken into years ago. It was not just media hyperbole when they called Bruce Wayne the Prince of Gotham. He was the _de facto_ ruler of the Social Register, and was a successful businessman and philanthropist. What the good (and not-so-good) citizens of Gotham would have thought about their Prince prowling the city as the Batman, Robin could only imagine. 

Robin’s thoughts were interrupted by a glove on his arm. He looked at Batman, who inclined his head, and Robin looked down below. 

Several thieves were robbing a jewelry store from the back. Since there was no alarm and the door did not appear damaged, was it an inside job? 

No matter. Time enough later to figure that out. A quick glance passed between the Dynamic Duo, and they flew down to smash into the oblivious crooks.

Adrenaline coursed through Robin, the act of kick-and-punch exciting and productive. The jewel thieves were shifty and had high-powered weapons, but Batman and Robin were too quick and powerful. In perfect sync, they disarmed the crooks and knocked them out, tying them up and handing the jewels over to the police who arrived just moments after the fight. 

“Thanks, Robin,” said the young officer who took the bag of jewels. 

“You’re welcome.” Robin shot the grapple hook up and began to fly away. Batman was already gone, leaving the public relations to his partner. Fine by Robin. 

The rest of the evening was uneventful, and Robin yawned when they slid back into the Batmobile. He closed his eyes as he rested his head back against the seat, listening to the thrumming of the powerful engine as the car glided along the quiet roads. It was still dark, more than four hours before sunrise, but Robin would be happy to get into bed for some sleep. 

His lips curved into a smile. Bed. Tempting, but he just too tired tonight. Despite being blessed with boundless energy, sometimes the double life of a crimefighter/college student caught up with you.

His smile grew brighter when he heard the radio switch from the police band to a pop music station. Bruce might have preferred classical or jazz but he was willing to also indulge Dick’s tastes.

Yes, Bruce and Dick were dominant at the moment. He drifted off into sleep, confident of being able to awake if needed.

& & & & & &

Dick roused by the time they reached the road leading to the estate. High up on a cliff, Wayne Manor arched upward, the bare trees allowing the top part of the mansion to be seen below. It was clear tonight, but Dick thought of the days when the turrets and spires rose up from clouds as gloom swept the coast. There was something magical about it.

 _Probably because I know what’s deep below the Manor._

The Batmobile roared into the tunnel carved into the cliff. The Batcave was its usual quiet atmosphere, Dick and Bruce showering quickly after changing out of costume. They wrapped comfortable, fuzzy robes around themselves and used sandals to protect their feet from the Cave floor and steps. Dick yawned again but was hungry enough to eat the cookies and milk Alfred had left out in the kitchen for them. 

He nearly laughed at the imagery. Fuzzy robes, sandals, milk and cookies! The Big, Bad Bat and his sidekick Robin doing something so domestic. Why, the Joker would laugh himself to death.

_Hmm, we should be so lucky._

Dick was happy to trudge upstairs to their bedroom with Bruce, lose the robe and sandals, and crawl in under the covers. He smiled as he felt the warm body settle in next to him, drawing him close as they both fell asleep.


	3. Off The Rack? Mais, Non!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Dick go for their tuxedo fittings.

Dick came awake slowly, purring with happiness as he curled his leg around Bruce’s. Waking up to a warm body was his idea of the good life. He felt a strong hand stroke his hair.

“I thought you were a bird, not a cat.”

Dick chuckled. “I can be either one.”

Bruce rolled him over on top of his chest, a serene smile on his face. Dick loved seeing that expression on his lover’s face. He loved knowing that he had put it there.

The kiss Dick bestowed upon Bruce was gentle, Bruce’s arm sliding around him to hold him close. Dick began nibbling his partner’s ear, delighting in Bruce’s little moans. He began to stroke the broad chest, Bruce pulling him into another kiss.

 _A good way to wake up,_ Dick thought before he lost himself to lust.

& & & & & &

Showered, dressed, and thoroughly sated, Dick went down to breakfast. “Good morning, Alfred!”

“Good morning, Master Dick.” Alfred noted the glow that emanated from his young charge. “You seem quite satisfied this morning.”

Dick laughed, smirking a little at the word ‘satisfied’. “Yes, you’re right.” He picked up the pitcher of orange juice and two glasses and went into the breakfast nook. The sun was shining into the small room, warming it as he gazed out over the snow-covered grounds. Wayne Estates was beautiful at any time of year, but today she glittered like a princess dressed for a ball.

His thoughts immediately turned to the Winter Ball and he sighed. Today was tux-fitting day. Well, he would just have to endure it.

Bruce arrived as Alfred came in with the plates of blueberry pancakes, and breakfast was filled with non-Bat topics. 

“You have class this morning?”

Dick nodded. “I’ll be home in time to go with you to the city.” He looked out at the wintry vista. “Everything looks so beautiful under snow.”

Bruce nodded. The trees glittered with ice, prisms of light sparkling against the breathtaking blue sky. “It’s always beautiful,” he said quietly.

Dick looked at him as he gazed out the window. Bruce rarely spoke of it, but Dick knew that he loved his family home and the vast estate that surrounded it. He was anchored here, generations of Waynes living their lives here, and Dick felt warmth as he realized the magnitude of the gift that Bruce had given him: acceptance into the family on so many levels. Heir, indeed, as Alfred would say.

_I guess a tux-fitting is a small price to pay._

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing special.” Dick’s grin grew even wider and jumped up, kissing Bruce and then hurrying out of the nook. “See you later!”

As Dick gathered his books from the hall table after putting on his coat and boots, he heard Alfred say, “That boy is a whirlwind.”

“This house needs the fresh air he brings, Alfred.”

Dick felt incredibly happy as he hurried out to his car.

& & & & & &

In the breakfast nook Alfred looked at his young master. “And when will you be discussing with him that rather important subject we talked about earlier?”

Bruce smiled affectionately. Alfred was devoted to him, but he was like a mother bear with a cub when it came to Dick. 

“Probably after we go to Pierre’s. Dick’s never been very comfortable there, and I don’t want to add to any discomfort for him.”

“Very well.” Alfred busied himself clearing away dishes. “I congratulate you on your decision, sir. I believe it is what Master Dick wants very much.” He looked shrewdly at Bruce. “Masks are all very well and good, considering your other lives, but too many of them can get quite confusing.”

The butler exited the nook and Bruce watched him go in amusement, then the smile faded from his face. 

He was very good at masks and hiding. It was time to shed at least one mask.

& & & & & &

The morning class was actually interesting. Thinking about the Waynes and their political and family connections, American history was a subject that Dick could get enthusiastic about. He had decided to take the course as an elective, a welcome change from all the core business courses he had to take for his degree. Jack was in the class, too, and Dick felt relaxed as he listened to the female professor lecture.

He wondered if anyone from the superhero community would ever do a history of their world. He knew that histories had been published by scholars, but it would be extra interesting if a member of the community could write it. 

_Of course, it might have to be buried in a vault somewhere if secret identities were revealed. Well, maybe the historian could do two copies._

After class he ate lunch with Jack, debating some of the points made by the professor in class, then he and his friend went to the library. On the steps a lovely redhead accosted him.

“Dick, dear, are you still looking for a date for the Ball?”

“Uh, no, sorry, Melody.” He remembered Bruce’s plans to secure him a date. 

Melody pouted. “Oh, dear. Well, I’ll be curious to see who she is.” She winked. “See you at the Ball!”

Melody sashayed away, Jack whistling under his breath. Dick laughed. “She’s not shy, that’s for sure.” He spotted a knot of people several yards away. “Uh, oh. Let’s get inside. Paparazzi alert.”

Jack nodded and they hurried up the steps into the library.

The vast marble-and-stone building was quiet inside, students studying at long tables and small carrels along the walls. Dick liked it here. The quiet was nice enough, but the vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows were beautiful pieces of design.

“Reminds me of home,” he cracked.

Jack grinned. He had been to Wayne Manor. “That table over there okay?”

Dick nodded and they spread out their books and papers on a table by a window that depicted the founder of Gotham, Hiram Knickerbocker, reading the town charter. Since the Knickerbockers had donated the window back in 1870, little wonder at the choice of subject. Next to it was a window showing Mad Anthony Wayne on horseback, his sword raised and ready to charge into battle. Dick grinned and relaxed.

As he and Jack got busy, he thought about Melody’s query. He wondered who Bruce had in mind for him. Probably a mother-daughter combination, or some debutante who would love to be seen with the Wayne heir. 

He dismissed the thoughts from his mind. It didn’t really matter who Bruce chose. It was all glitter and laughter and was just for image’s sake. His heart was with Bruce and always would be.

& & & & & &

_Pierre’s_ was the only name needed for the upscale men’s clothing store. Dick always felt out-of-place here, as if he was found wanting by the snobby salesclerks, but Pierre himself was scrupulously attentive. He always waited on Bruce and Dick personally, and Dick was grateful. Despite being a circus boy at heart, he was learning to live in Bruce’s rarified world more and more as the years passed.

He quietly stood during the measurements, but he doubted that they had changed much. He probably was at the end of growing now at the age of nineteen, unlike those years in which his measurements had changed dramatically. Usually that meant height, as he was always slender, but weight and muscle had increased with the years, too. He had a balance to maintain: he needed the muscle for powerful punches but needed to stay at a certain weight to keep his ability to fly circus-style.

His eyes roamed around the well-appointed store with its rich carpeting, shining mirrors, and racks of sample clothing. Everything bought here was tailored, of course, but samples were needed to get started. ‘Off the rack’ was a dirty set of words here. Dick allowed a small smile to grace his face.

“I’m sorry we’re so late this year, Pierre, but I just didn’t have the time,” Bruce shrugged in playboy fashion.

“Quite all right, sir. I will put you and _Monsieur_ Richard at the head of the line.” 

“Thank you, Pierre.”

Dick’s smiled grew into a grin. Nothing less for the Prince of Gotham! 

After he was finished, he drifted around as Bruce was being measured. He checked out some of the clothing, still amazed after all these years at the prices. To him, clothes were for comfort or for razzle-dazzle, as in the circus or as Robin. He understood the need for ‘good’ clothes, and Bruce had seen to it that he had an excellent wardrobe. He knew that once he started working at Wayne Industries after graduation he would need a ‘power’ wardrobe, too. He decided to set his mind to learning about such things. He had absorbed some tips already from Bruce and Alfred. Maybe it was time to really jump in, though he knew himself well. He got more excited seeing a hero’s new costume than he did by a thousand-dollar suit.

As he checked out a rack of suits, he heard murmurs from around a marble pillar. They stayed on the edge of his consciousness as he browsed until the words, _“Looks like Wayne brought his boy toy today.”_

Dick stiffened, letting a sleeve fall that he had been holding as he checked out a jacket. The _sotto voce_ continued, _“He’s a pretty one, I’ll give him that, but surely the Prince of Gotham could do better.”_

A second voice, pitched just as low: _“He gads around with all kinds of beautiful women.”_

Snort. _“Come on, darling, you know as well as I do that our fellow queers beard it up all the time. They might even boink a few of the femme fatales, but they know where they’re interest really lies.”_

_“Still, I’m not sure about that boy.”_

_“Darling, don’t you think it’s rather odd that the boy is still living at home? He’s a ‘ward’? Right, and I’m Queen of the May!”_

_“Well, you’re a queen, anyway.”_

Laughter, then the two voices’ owners drifted away.

Dick’s face had reddened during this overheard conversation. He quickly glanced at Bruce, but he was still deep in conversation with Pierre. The gray-haired Frenchman was gesticulating as he talked. He reminded Dick of a Gallic Alfred.

Dick breathed deeply. Why should he be upset? He had heard stuff like this for years. He knew that the rumors flew fast and furiously. 

He grinned. The same rumors had floated around about Batman and Robin for years, too. Most criminals had the good sense not to hurl such rumors at the Dynamic Duo, yet society seemed more than comfortable whispering about the scion of Gotham and his ward. Okay, technically ex-ward as he nineteen now, but people weren’t sure what to use to describe Dick. Every term that applied to him (lover, partner, soulmate) had to be kept secret.

Dick sighed. As long as he and Bruce kept their relationship a secret, people would talk like it was a dirty one.

“Dick.”

He jumped. “Yes, Bruce?” he asked, turning to face his lover. 

“We’re done. Let’s go.”

Dick nodded as he joined Bruce, who thanked Pierre, then they left the shop.

Out in the winter cold, Dick turned up the collar of his leather jacket. He was about to ask Bruce if they were going home when a gaggle of reporters suddenly materialized, cameras whirring and microphones jutting out to capture any answers to the shouted questions, all of which Bruce and Dick had heard many times before, with Winter Ball references thrown in for a little variety. Bruce put on his best playboy face and joked with the reporters, giving them very little except some good footage of himself and his handsome ward. They disappeared into the limousine that drove up for them and Alfred whisked them away.

“Always in the nick, Alfred,” Bruce said as he settled comfortably into the back seat, Dick close beside him. The tinted windows afforded them privacy.

“It’s part of my job description, sir.”

Alfred’s charges grinned, then Dick relaxed. “Glad to get away from the hordes?”

“Yes, though most of them aren’t so bad.” At Dick’s raised eyebrow he said, “They’re just trying to make a living. Remember, there _are_ decent reporters out there. We know a few ourselves.”

Dick smiled. “Yes, we do.” He rested his thigh against Bruce’s, his eyes sparkling. “Though Lois can be pretty aggressive when she’s after a story.” He frowned. “Do we have another errand?”

Bruce shook his head. “I thought we’d stop by the office for about an hour and then go to early dinner since we’re already in town.”

And that was what they did, Bruce wrapping up some of the day’s work in his plush office atop the Wayne Building, and then he and Dick were driven to _Antonio’s_ , a popular Italian restaurant. Alfred joined them, Bruce not about to have the older man wait out in the cold while he and Dick had a good, hot meal. 

They indulged in antipastos and breadsticks and several kinds of pastas, a fire roaring in the fireplace by their table as they enjoyed the good food and conversation. Occasionally looks were thrown their way, but being famous made it ‘par for the course’, as Bruce would loftily say, Dick giggling at the jaded playboy voice. He enjoyed his ziti with roasted red peppers-and-garlic sauce, stealing a clam off Bruce’s plate of seafood in red sauce. Alfred was relaxed, joining in their conversation, and Dick felt happy.

Happiness could be so fleeting in life. He knew that very well, thinking briefly of his parents and Bruce’s, but it could also be lasting if one tried hard enough. Dick was going to take what he could get and hold onto it hard. 

He felt content as they left the restaurant and returned home, thoughts of boy toys and tuxes tucked away in the back of his mind.


	4. The Glass Slipper (Or Is That A Pixie Boot)?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick is surprised by his 'date' for the Ball.

Dick busied himself with school and work, enjoying the unique ‘work’ that he couldn’t exactly put on a resume. As the days passed, he briefly thought of whom Bruce might have asked to the Winter Ball, but he knew he would find out when he needed to do so. 

Four days before the Ball he found Bruce in the library, reading and sitting by the fire. Dick curled up in a chair on the other side of the fireplace, his shoes off and feet tucked away as he gazed into the flames. He was thinking of a string of robberies from the past week when Bruce said, “I’ve got you a date for the Ball.”

Dick looked over at his companion and wondered if it would be Silver’s niece. She was a pretty and intelligent girl, and would make it easy to be attentive to her for the night. 

“Who is it?”

Bruce smiled. “Me.”

Dick’s jaw dropped. For several seconds, he sat, frozen and numb, then blurted, _“What?!”_

“Actually, ‘who’, but that’s all right.”

Dick blinked. “Bruce, stop kidding me!” A flicker of anger went through him. Damn Bat-humor, anyway. “Now, whom am I really going with?” He was feeling snarky.

Bruce’s smile was gentle. “I’m not kidding.”

Emotions whirled and Dick tried to hold onto what his mind was gibbering about. “You mean…no women this year? Just you and me?”

“Isn’t it always?”

A big smile graced Dick’s face. “Always!” Suddenly the smile faded. “But…Bruce…have you thought this out?” _Dumb question. I’m asking this of the Batman, for cryin’ out loud!_ “This is going to affect the company, the Foundation, your reputation!” 

“I know.” Bruce set aside his book. He looked very good indeed in his dark-blue ski sweater and dark pants. “But it’s time.” His blue eyes looked directly at Dick. “As long as you agree.”

Dick’s heart pounded as he stared back. “Are you sure about this? Your family goes back a long way in this town. I’m just a circus kid…”

“Don’t.” Bruce held up a hand and for a second, his face was stormy. “You’re not some ragamuffin I picked up off the street, Dick. Just because your family doesn’t go back generations in blue blood doesn’t mean it’s worth less.” The anger faded. “My family has survived here for generations and I’m sure we’ll continue to do so. What I need to know is, will you be comfortable with letting everyone know? You could have a hard time in college.”

Dick grinned. “As long as I avoid the Crusaders for Christ on campus, I think I’ll be all right.” The grin turned into a serious expression. “Bruce, this is a big step. Every media outlet in this country and in the _world_ is going to report this. There are some people who aren’t going to like it.” He thought of the comments he had overheard at Pierre’s, though he supposed those particular speakers might find the situation more amusing than disgusting. Still, if he thought he’d heard crude comments _before…_

“Are we going to live our lives for them?”

Dick shook his head. “But your privacy will be shot.”

An eyebrow lifted. “I have privacy now?”

Dick had to laugh. “Okay, good point. Every time you step out with a woman it’s all over the news. But this will be ugly at times.”

“I know.” A small smile lurked around Bruce’s lips. “But it’s worth it.”

“Oh?” 

“Yes.” Bruce stood up. “I won’t have to hide anymore. Not about this, about the man I love, who completes me.”

Dick felt astonishment. He knew that Bruce had gotten better with expressing his feelings since they’d become lovers, but he was actually getting flowery here! An impish grin lit his face. “Careful, Bruce, your reputation as the dread Batman will be tarnished.”

Bruce took his hands and lifted him up, Dick scrambling to untangle his legs. “Well, most of the superhero community will know about Batman and Robin once they learn about Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson.” Worry flit across his face. “Will that compromise you as leader of the Titans?”

Dick smiled. “Donna will kick anyone’s butt who gives me a hard time.” He laughed. “Really, I don’t think so. Wally might be a little uncomfortable but Roy’ll be fine. He already knows, anyway. And I suspect that Donna does, too.” He drew himself close to Bruce. “Kori thinks all humans are prudes and her people are very liberal sexually, so she won’t care, Raven won’t, and Lilith and Victor will think it’s cool.” He tilted his head up. “I guess what I’m saying is, we’ll have a lot of people who won’t think differently of us, or object, and who might even be happy for us. I’m sure there’ll be rough spots, but you’ve convinced me, Bruce. It’s time.”

Bruce caressed his hair, then leaned down into a kiss.

Dick was still reeling with all the events of the last few minutes. _He wants us to come out!_ He wanted the kiss and more as he felt a joy spread through him. They were going to be a real couple, no longer hiding as they had to hide so much of their lives, and come what may, they’d face it together.

They grew more passionate and Bruce whispered, “Upstairs.” Dick willingly followed along, face flushed and excitement brightening his eyes. 

Up in their bedroom, Bruce kicked the door shut and he grabbed Dick’s shoulders, then pressed him down onto the bed. Laughing, Dick pulled Bruce’s sweater up and off over his head, tossing it cavalierly onto the floor. 

More clothes followed, limbs entwined, tongues met and dueled, and Dick felt his heart soar. He tasted flesh, blood thrumming through limbs, and as he slid down Bruce’s body, kissing every inch, he knew that he would always be happy with this man and this love.


	5. Cufflinks, Amethysts, And Let's Hope The Batmobile Doesn't Turn Into A Pumpkin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Dick come out at the Winter Ball.

“Nervous?”

Dick was trying to adjust his cufflink. “A little.” He looked at Bruce. “You?”

A smile. “A little.” Bruce’s hand reached out and stopped him from fiddling with the cufflink. “Here.”

He produced a small black box and Dick took it, opening it with curiosity. Inside the black velvet interior nestled a pair of square gold cufflinks. Dick took them out and examined them closely, his eyes widening. “Bruce, these are your father’s!” 

Bruce nodded. “They were my father’s, and his father’s, and so on.” 

Each cufflink bore the Wayne family crest, the _‘W’_ in fancy script. Dick’s hand trembled as the light caught the cufflink, winking off the gold.

“You…these should be yours.”

“They belong to me, and now to my heir.”

Dick’s eyes met Bruce’s, and he understood. Heir to more than the Wayne fortune. 

He tried to affix the cufflinks, muttering as his fingers kept slipping. Bruce took his wrist in one hand and the cufflink in the other, and deftly slipped it one the shirt’s cuff. He took the other one and did the same on the other wrist, then squeezed Dick’s hand.

Dick quickly blinked tears away. He wasn’t going to cry like some lovesick schoolboy! He smiled and gave Bruce a deep kiss, both of them flushed when they parted.

A small chime from the grandfather clock startled Dick. “The Batcave…!”

“It’s all right.”

The grandfather clock opened and in walked Superman with a smile. Surprised but pleased, Dick greeted him and Bruce said, “Glad you could make it.”

“You’re going to patrol the city for us?” Dick asked.

Superman shook his head. “I’m going to the Ball, too.” At Dick’s surprised look, he laughed. “As Clark Kent. I’m taking Cat Grant, _The Planet’s_ gossip columnist, with me.” He cocked his head in amusement. “Seems a certain anonymous tipster gave me some important info and I felt it needed Cat’s expertise.” His blue eyes sparkled. “She’s waiting for Clark to come to her room and they’ll be leaving for the Ball, but first I wanted to come and congratulate you in person.”

“Congratu…? Ah, you know about tonight!”

“I do.” Clark shook Dick’s hand, then pulled him into an embrace. “I’m happy for you,” he whispered. 

When they broke apart, Clark gave Bruce a hug, too, then winked. “See you at the Ball. Please try and keep your glass slippers on.”

He was gone in a whirl of super-speed, Bruce and Dick grinning at each other.

“So why did you invite Clark tonight?”

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a friendly face there. Besides, I wanted _The Daily Planet_ to be fair in its coverage, and I thought that with Clark as escort to Ms. Grant, we’d have a better chance of that.” 

“You think of everything.”

“I hope so.”

Dick kissed his lover, then slipped away and accepted his coat from Alfred in the foyer. Once Bruce had his coat on, they stepped out into the cold winter’s night, the stars sparkling overhead in the clear sky.

This year’s Winter Ball would be very interesting, indeed.

& & & & & &

There was the usual crush of paparazzi and reporters outside the Gotham Horticultural Gardens. The organization stretched back to the 18th century, some of the heirloom plants located around the grounds very valuable. 

The building was sandstone and two stories tall, with two round towers at each end. A rounded glass roof indicated where the ballroom was at the north end of the structure. 

Dick felt nervous as he and Bruce alighted from the limousine. _Funny how I’m more jittery coming out than I am facing the Joker._ Bruce looked positively serene as he smiled and waved and questions were shouted out about their dates. He touched Dick on the shoulder and said with a smile, “We are each other’s dates.”

Shock and surprise swept over the press corps’ faces, then a whole range of reactions: delight, smugness, disgust, and puzzlement. More questions were shouted and Bruce kept up his smile and said, “A press release will be out tomorrow. Until then, Dick and I plan to enjoy our evening.” He escorted Dick inside with the hand now on his back, and Dick grinned despite his fluttering stomach.

Inside the building, it was abloom with flowers and plants as befitted the Horticultural Society that maintained the organization. Bruce stopped in the empty corridor and turned to Dick. “Are you ready?”

Dick nodded. “I have been for a long time.”

Bruce let a ghost of a smile play around his lips, then they walked down the corridor and reached the ballroom.

The ballroom glittered with jewels, gowns, flowers, plants, and the more subdued tuxes. Chamber music played from one end of the room, and buffets were set up along the stone walls. Small alcoves were located around the room, but the main part was open under the clear glass roof that reflected the stars.

It was a whirlwind after that. Bruce and Dick mingled, greeting Gotham’s rich and powerful, and they smiled as they met Barbara and her father. She looked stunning in a cinnamon-colored gown with a simple necklace of a single diamond gracing her throat. Jim Gordon was in perfect health and looking comfortable in a fashionable tuxedo.

“So, Bruce, who are the lucky ladies tonight?” Jim asked.

Bruce hesitated for a millisecond. He respected Jim Gordon’s opinion very much. “None tonight.” He gently entwined his hand with Dick’s.

Barbara was surprised for a split-second, then she beamed. “Wonderful!” She hugged Bruce and Dick, whispering, “I’m so happy for you!” in Dick’s ear.

Jim Gordon was surprised, too, then he smiled and held out his hand to Bruce. “You look very happy, Bruce.”

“Thank you, Jim. I am.”

Jim turned to Dick and chuckled. “You’re good for this wastrel, young man.”

“Thank you, sir.” Dick grinned as he shook the commissioner’s hand. He, too, had been hopeful of acceptance by the man he respected and had known for years. Barbara had already known, loftily informing him one day not too long ago that “A woman can figure these things out if you give her enough clues.”

There was more mingling, and Dick waved to Clark, who was several feet away with Cat Grant. Cat was watching them with a delighted look on her face, and she headed their way. Dick touched Bruce’s arm and his lover saw her approach.

“Time to start presenting our case,” Bruce murmured, and Cat was jovial as she joined them, Clark right behind her. 

Cat’s auburn hair was fashionably styled, and she wore a forest-green dress that suited her very well. 

“Good evening, Mr. Wayne. Who are you and Mr. Grayson escorting tonight?”

Bruce’s smile was relaxed as he gently grasped Dick’s hand. “We are each other’s companions for the evening.” His voice grew quiet as he added, “And hopefully for the rest of our lives.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. She noticed the society columnist for _The Gotham Gazette_ suddenly at her elbow. Oh, well, half of an exclusive was better than none. They were the only press allowed inside.

“When did this romantic relationship of yours begin?”

Bruce and Dick had expected that question. Bruce answered, “About a year now.” Dick knew that was true. The public didn’t need to know it had been on the very night of his eighteenth birthday. 

“Mr. Grayson, what is your reaction?”

Dick took a deep breath. “I’m happy, Ms. Grant.” He looked at Bruce with love in his eyes. “Very happy.”

Amethyst Green lived up to her name with her violet gown and the emeralds she wore as necklace and bracelet. She tossed russet hair and asked, “Why did you decide to make your relationship known tonight?”

Bruce waved his hand airily. “The Winter Ball is the social event of the season. It’s also an event sponsored by my family. What better place to officially present my heir?”

Bruce squeezed Dick’s hand and Dick nearly laughed. If the two women only knew what other things he could inherit…

Amethyst was serious as she asked, “Do you expect any backlash to this announcement?”

Bruce shrugged. “I can’t control what other people think, Ms. Green. I can say that I don’t intend to live a lie. They can accept that or not.”

Clark and Dick exchanged amused glances. For a man who had lived in secrecy for so many years and would continue to do so in his ‘other’ career, this openness was impressive. Dick felt a surge of pride and happiness.

Bruce brought Dick’s hand up, the light glinting off the ancestral cufflinks. Amethyst noticed them right away. “Dick Grayson is my choice, and I am his.” Dick nodded in affirmation. “My family is proud to welcome once again such a fine young man into it.” Bruce’s smile was polite as he continued, “And now Dick and I would like to enjoy the evening.”

“Of course,” said Cat, and Amethyst murmured her agreement. The two women moved off to start sending their stories, talking in a friendly rival sort of way.

“Smooth as the silk of the Batman’s cape,” Clark said with a smile.

Dick laughed and Bruce raised a haughty eyebrow. Clark winked at Dick.

“You’re as incorrigible as Dick.” Bruce pretended to be put out.

“I hope so!” 

Dick squeezed Bruce’s hand and this time was the one who did the winking, Clark’s amusement warming his heart. 

“Let’s go mingle some more, Crown Prince.”

“Bruuuuce, I’m not a Crown Prince!”

“You are now more than ever.”

Clark chuckled as his two friends began making a circuit of the room.

Bruce had taught Dick how to read people. In the faces of the social elite of Gotham, he saw many reactions. Most were polite to their faces, and Dick judged that some were sincere. He could detect phoniness in others, and a few were honest enough to avoid the two of them. On the whole, however, the uppercrust of Gotham City proved what Dick had observed over the years: while the ultra-rich could be rock-ribbed conservative on certain social issues, it was usually about status or their sources for money, otherwise, they could be surprisingly liberal, especially in sexual situations. So the Social Register set would accept Bruce Wayne and his young lover, at least because it would be awkward socially and perhaps financially to anger the Prince of Gotham.

He saw Melody, whose face registered an impressive array of emotions when she learned about him and Bruce: shock, anger, and disdain. Well, at least she didn’t throw her drink at him.

Eventually he and Bruce separated and Dick found himself by a fountain as he perused the fabulous food at the buffet. A voice drifted over to him that said, “Well, looks like Alexander has his Bagoas.” Dick picked up a plate and smiled. He was familiar with Alexander the Great, the greatest warrior of the Ancient World who had conquered the known world by the age of thirty-three. Bruce was rather fond of exceptional figures in history. Alexander had enjoyed a lover, his childhood friend and trusted general, Hephaestion, but the Persian boy Bagoas had fallen into his hands after the defeat of the Persian king Darius. Bagoas had fallen in love with Alexander and was highly skilled in the arts of the courtesan, the role he had fulfilled as Darius’ slave.

Dick knew that crude remarks about his relationship with Bruce would be out there, but he didn’t intend to waste time worrying about it. Bagoas had been a loyal, loving companion to the greatest hero of his time, and Dick could identify with that.

The evening continued in a dazzle of jewels and stars as the time for the First Dance arrived. As the traditional sponsor of the Winter Ball, Bruce Wayne was supposed to dance with his date for a few minutes alone in the spotlight, and then the rest of Gotham’s elite would join them. Dick wondered if Bruce would decline this year.

“Dick.”

The orchestra was tuning up. Dick set aside his plate. “Yes, Bruce?”

“Care to dance?”

Dick looked at Bruce’s outstretched hand. “Are you sure?”

Bruce’s smile was faint but sure. “I am, but if you would rather not, I understand.”

Dick considered. He wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed to be seen dancing with Bruce. Hell, maybe a few closeted types could take heart and whirl their real dates out onto the floor. And Bruce had gone against his secretive instincts all evening. It wouldn’t be fair to back out now.

Dick smiled and took Bruce’s hand. “I’m ready to dance under the stars, Mr. Wayne.”

Blue eyes sparkled. “I’m glad, Mr. Grayson.”

The leader of the orchestra said, “Ladies and gentlemen, for the First Dance of the Winter Ball, please welcome Mr. Bruce Wayne and his partner, Mr. Dick Grayson!”

The applause that swelled up surprised Dick. Even with the wealthy of Gotham wanting to stay on Bruce’s good side, they could have just given a polite smattering of applause. As he walked out to the center of the floor, the spotlight shining on them (he was accustomed to spotlights and it was relaxing), he thought that maybe he and Bruce could pull this off after all. 

In a whirl of their well-matched bodies, Dick saw the smiles of Clark and Barbara and he nearly laughed as he realized that Bruce was leading! That was all right…this time.

The stars swirled overhead and Dick hoped this evening was not just a dream. As other couples joined them on the floor, Dick lost himself in the blue of Bruce’s eyes…


	6. Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Dick celebrate after the Winter Ball.

…and felt a happiness that was pure joy. The dancing and the food and the glitter had all sparkled together like jewels as the stars had shone down through the glass.

Dick didn’t really remember much more of the evening except his happiness. And when he and Bruce returned home to the Manor in the wee hours of the morning, Dick hummed and danced his way across the polished foyer floor, laughing as Bruce grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss.

When they broke apart, Bruce said, “Okay, Cinderella, it’s past midnight and you’re home from the ball.”

“As long as you don’t try and put a glass slipper on me, I’m good.”

Bruce kissed him again, muttering, “Brat,” while urging Dick up the stairs. Dick was more than willing to oblige, his body charged with energy. 

“I could have danced ‘til dawn!”

“I’ve got to get Alfred to stop feeding you sugar.”

Dick snickered as he danced gracefully down the hall, blue eyes sparkling. He reached their bedroom first and slipped inside, Bruce right behind him. The older man unraveled his tie and began removing his jacket, then he moved like lightning and caught Dick, flipping him to the bed. Dick bounced and laughed, kicking off his shoes and wrapping his arms around Bruce as he fell on top of him. Kisses and passion and then clothes were starting to come off, expensive pants, shirts and jackets flying to the floor.

“Wait,” Dick panted as Bruce started unbuttoning his shirt. As clumsy as he had been before the Ball, he now deftly removed his cufflinks and slid off the bed, carefully placing them in the box on the dresser. He turned back and saw Bruce’s face. He kneeled on the bed, kissing Bruce gently.

The passion rose up again, Dick allowing himself to feel his happiness in every part of his body and soul. 

_Tonight is what I want, what I **have** wanted for a very long time._

He licked Bruce’s throat, his legs wrapping around Bruce’s as he rubbed his face against his lover’s chest, then looked up with a smile. Bruce’s eyes glowed with his own happiness, his hands cupping Dick’s face and then his mouth plundering Dick’s, one hand moving down to cup his companion’s buttock, squeezing lightly as he moaned. Dick broke their kiss and teased Bruce’s nipples with his tongue, sliding down to navel, then groin, inhaling the aroused scent and licking the swelling cock that tasted so good. He nibbled and licked and he scrabbled around for the cream in the nightstand, thrusting it at Bruce.

“Get me ready,” he rasped, and Bruce obeyed, coating his fingers with the cream and Dick crawled up the bed, hissing as Bruce slipped his fingers inside him, stretching and preparing. The jar fell to the carpet, unheeded, as Dick positioned himself and slid down slowly, carefully, onto Bruce’s erect cock.

Bruce was _hot_ and _hard_ and filled Dick with fire. Strong legs enabled him to pump up and down, sweat sheening his naked body, Bruce’s hands grasping his hips, the other man’s hips thrusting upwards just enough to help Dick out. 

Filled, fired up… _loved._

It didn’t take long for Dick to come, spraying over Bruce’s belly while he felt Bruce come deep inside him. He groaned and slid off his lover’s softening cock, crawling up to lick him clean.

“Mmm, I don’t know if Cinderella ever did Prince Charming like this,” Bruce teased.

“She probably didn’t, but I just did the Prince of Gotham.”

Bruce laughed and hugged Dick close, beginning to kiss his companion again.

Dick wasn’t going to think about any backlash they might face. Not tonight. He’d think about it tomorrow.

_Oh, brother! Good thing I’m secure in my masculinity, being compared to Cinderella and now thinking like Scarlett O’Hara._

_Oh, well,_ he thought as he enthusiastically returned Bruce’s kisses, _maybe we’ll live happily ever after, after all._


End file.
